


Roses and Thorns

by Starry_Night9



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur may or may not have TB, Emotional and physical scars, Eventual Smut, F/M, First time writing anything like this, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, I hate Micah, Injury Recovery, Jealous Arthur, Obsessed with Red Dead, Starts in Colter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23824885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starry_Night9/pseuds/Starry_Night9
Summary: Samantha Rose finds herself on the brink of death after an encounter with a bounty hunter. After being on the run by herself for three years, she finds herself joining the Van Der Linde gang after they save her life. Her friendship with a certain handsome outlaw during her recovery has her question her future. She could leave the gang and continue running from her troubled past or she could stay and maybe find something more.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. New Beginning

You wake up tied to the back of a horse. Your head pounds, sending waves of pain through your skull. Your breath catches with each gallop of the horse. Your hands and legs are tied together by a coarse rope, burning your skin. You groan as you slowly become aware of your situation. It’s nighttime and a lantern illuminates the ground beneath you. You look up to see the man seated beside you. You try to scream for help, your head bursting with pain, and your screams come out as groans.

  
The man in front of you looks towards you and yells, “Shut up.” His hand connects with the side of your head, everything goes black.

You slowly find consciousness again, without opening your eyes, you feel the cold around you. Your body is shaking, no, you realize that you are shivering. You slowly open your eyes and find that you are laying down in half a foot of snow. The freezing cold seeps into your entire being. It is still dark, you can see the outlines of trees above you and the sprinkle of snow falling to the ground. You try and move your frozen body, but you can’t seem to feel your hands or feet. You are completely unequipped for this weather, wearing only a ripped jacket, a torn, muddy skirt, and worn boots. You gasp as you take in your situation. You have cuts littering your knees and arms. The pain in your head pulses through your body, along with a deep throb in your ankle. You slowly sit up, it looks like you are on the edge of a trail, maybe someone will come by, unlikely you think. Who would be coming up in the snow right now?

You try and remember how you got here. You were camping just west of Valentine, cooking up some leftover deer you had shot the day before. You remember feeling as though you were being watched and then all of a sudden, a man comes from behind you, hitting the back of your head with what you assumed to be the end of a rifle. Everything went black until you had woken up on the horse. You figure he must’ve been a bounty hunter, seeing as you have quite a high price on your head from various of crimes. You had been on the run for over three years now, surviving by hunting and selling the pelts, robbing stages, pickpocketing men in saloons, and going on the occasional bounty hunt yourself.

You left your terrible past behind you. Your father had been a cruel man, a drunk who beat you every chance he got. Your mother had died when you were six during childbirth with your younger brother. He didn’t make it either. The few memories you have of your mother have become blurred over the years. You remember the chair she used to sit in, sewing and humming, seeing her in the kitchen cooking, reading to you before you went to bed. She was kind and loving from what you can remember, so was your dad until the day she died. He turned in to a nasty drunk, spent his days drinking at the saloon, had the people he hired to care for you and the farm. The first time he hit you was a year after your mother passed, he came home late walked into your room and gripped your arm tight and smacked your face with his fist. It just got worse from there, after awhile he learned to avoid hitting your face after your uncle got suspicious.

Your uncle was more of a father to you than your actual father. He took you out when your dad was away. He taught you everything you needed to know to survive, he taught you how to hunt, shoot, skin animals, he read to you, gave you books and taught you how to write. He even taught you how to ride a horse. When you were thirteen a mare your father had stabled birthed a beautiful foal, that you named Penny. She has been with you ever since, well up until now that is. Penny was with you at your campsite, but the bounty hunter left her there.

When you were twenty you met a stable hand named Henry, he helped care for Penny when you couldn’t and the two of you soon fell in love. Your father didn’t know about Henry until you declined his wish for you to marry a man named William as part of his business arrangement. Your father was so furious when you told him about Henry that he threatened to kill him. You fought back for the first time, but your father was stronger, he shoved you so hard the top half of you went through the window in the living room. Leaving you with a long, thin scar running along your cheekbone, multiple scars on your arms and chest and a very large one covering the better part of your thigh where the glass dragged and got caught in. While you were recovering, your father went through with his threat. He shot Henry in the stables, leaving him for you to find after hearing the gunshot. After that, in a state of anger and grief, you waited until your father was asleep and shot him between the brows with your revolver. Your uncle hearing all of this, helped you escape, got all the supplies you needed, and bought you a train ticket south.

Two months after leaving, you found yourself pregnant with Henry’s baby. Afraid and on the run, you sought shelter with a family you had met. They planned on letting you stay there with the baby, that is until you miscarried at 18 weeks. You stayed in a state of depression for months after that, finally leaving after you were able to feed and care for yourself. You fled their home and relied on robbing and hunting. You found yourself held at gunpoint multiple times; the adrenaline of a gunfight is what kept you alive. You didn’t care if you died, almost asked for it. But you knew Henry wouldn’t want you to die, he would want you to escape and find happiness. You tried your best at accepting his wishes. Living after all that was the hardest thing you ever had to do. And now almost four years later, it’s still hard.  
And now you are sitting in the snow, injured, freezing, hoping death finds you soon. You tell yourself that you did your best, Henry will know that you tried. You are drifting in and out of consciousness, seeing Henry’s face, your fathers, and your uncle’s. You have zero concept of how much time has passed, when you open your eyes to see a light in the distance. The sounds of galloping coming nearer, you must be dreaming you think. The light gets closer and closer, you think that this is the end, you must go to the light. Finally, the horse with the light gets close enough for you to see that the light is coming from a lantern. And the lantern is connected to a man’s hand. The man’s lips are moving as he approaches you, the edges of your vision blurs, and everything turns black once again.

Next thing you know, is that you feel warm. You think that you have finally died, and that heaven is warm. But the next thing you feel is something touch your arm. Someone is touching you. Suddenly everything comes back to you. You aren’t dead. You feel the blankets wrapped around you, the pillow beneath your head, and a hand resting on your forearm. You gasp and open your eyes. The ceiling above you is made of a grayish wood, the blanket in front of you is red and scratchy against your neck. The hand touching you is connected to an older woman, with graying brown hair. She is speaking to you.

“Well look who’s finally awake!” The woman says in an excited tone, yet her face looks like she is annoyed or angry.

You hear footsteps come from behind her. Another woman and a man walk towards where your laying. The woman is black, her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, her skirt is blue, and she has a nice smile. The man walking behind them looks familiar, his tall frame and wide shoulders instantly bring you back to when you were in the snow. You can see his face more clearly now, a strong jawline, golden hair, and piercing blue eyes look at you from under his hat. You find yourself staring at his handsome features longer than the others.

“How are you feeling dear? What’s your name?” The older woman starts questioning you.

You go to answer, but your throat croaks, and aches with a scratchy pain. Your brain is still pounding against your skull, and your body is aching all over, especially in your left ankle. The woman sees you struggle to speak and is quick to ask the black woman, who she calls Tilly, to grab her some water. She comes back a minute later with a small tin cup. The older woman lifts it to your lips, and you sip the ice-cold drink greedily. The water instantly soothes your dry tongue and cools your aching throat, but you still struggle to swallow. After the cup is empty the woman asks you the same questions.

You answer, “A man kidnapped my from my camp, he knocked me out, and I woke up in the snow. Oh, and my name is Rose.” You decide to answer vaguely, still not trusting these people. You use your middle name which is the one you give people when you are about to rob them. And you are sure to leave out the part where the man was a bounty hunter.

“Well, Miss Rose,” he almost pronounces your name with an unbelieving tone. “Is that all you remember? You were on the brink of death when I found you. Do you know why he was bringing you up here?” The tall, handsome man questions you with deep southern accent. His beautiful blue eyes studying your face.

You become a little self-conscious, knowing he’s eyeing the scar on your cheek. “He hit me in the head pretty good. I have no idea where he was taking me.” You answer honestly. That’s the one part of your theory that doesn’t make sense, why was he taking you up north, you were camping not too far from Valentine, if he was a bounty hunter he would’ve just taken you straight to the jail there.

The woman scoffs a little and says, “He did a little more than hit you in the head, you were soaking wet and freezing when Arthur here brought you in. You are covered in bruises and cuts, and your ankle is real swollen. Are you sure you don’t remember anything else?” You notice that she doesn’t mention your scars, and your grateful for not having to try to explain them.

“I think I might’ve fallen off his horse, but I really don’t know.” You reply.

The man, or Arthur, hums, considering your answer. “Were you campin’ alone?”

“Yes, I’ve been on my own for some time now.” You try your best to give as little details as possible, not wanting to delve in to your past or ways of making money.

“What’s a young lady like you living on your own for?” The older woman questions this time.

You sigh, considering what to say. The man can probably sense your hesitation to answer and says, “You can trust us, we want’a help you.”

You hesitate again. You have no idea who these people are. They saved you from the snow and got you warm but beyond that you don’t know what they are going to do with you. You go to speak but don’t know what to say. Exhaustion starts creeping over you again, making your eyes droop. The woman tells you to get some rest and that we’ll finish the conversation later. You fall into a peaceful sleep.

You wake up a couple more times only for a few minutes to one of the girls helping you drink water or scooping some type of broth to your lips. You can’t seem to hold on to consciousness very long, only staying awake long enough to eat and drink. Your body feels like you were hit by a train, even lifting your head causes nauseating pain to run through you. The girls try to ask you questions but you struggle to answer in you exhausted state, only really able to give them a few words or nod yes or no.

You wake up one day feeling a little better than you have the past few times. You’re stilling hurting like hell, but the throbbing in your skull isn’t as bad as it was. You are shocked when the girls inform you it’s been a week since they found you.

“Holy shit.” You mutter to yourself when they tell you.

“Yeah, you’re lucky though. Everyone is miserable here.” Mary-Beth replies to you. She is a petite woman with auburn-colored hair braided past her shoulders and has been very kind to you.

You get your bearings and ask her, “If you’re all so miserable, why the hell are you up here?”

“We got into some trouble and here we are.” She gestures around the cabin. You have been moved to a small cot in the corner of the room away from the fire.

“What kind of trouble?” You question, wanting to know more about these people. You’ve seen some more faces since you woke up. There’s a man laying in a cot by the fire with bandages on his face a woman with a small boy is sitting next to him. You wonder what happened to the man and why a child is up here. Who are these people? You wonder.

Mary-Beth hesitates to answer, she is about to speak when suddenly the door swings open. I gust of freezing air circles the room causing you to shiver. Arthur walks in and stomps his boots off. He looks over to you and you watch him do a double take, he must not have expected you to be awake. He walks over to you, greeting the woman with the boy first. You hear him say the name Abigail.

“Look who’s awake.” Arthur says as he saunters over to your cot and leans up against the wall, a small smile on his lips.

“Hello.” You reply curtly, not knowing what to say.

“How ya feelin’?” He asks.

You groan a little. “Like shit, but I am alive, thanks to you.”

Arthur chuckles, a sound that makes your heartbeat quicken. “Yeah, wouldn’t expect ya to feel any different with what happened to ya.”

You reply with a small, “Yeah.” And look down towards your ankle.

“So… we need to talk about what your plan is. Miss Rose” He says while looking down and scratching the back of his neck. He still says your name weird, you are sure now that he knows you are lying.

“My plan?” You ask. You have no plan. All of your things are back at your camp, your heart drops deeper into your chest as you think of Penny. She was untied so your hoping that she found some food and some water out in the woods.

“Yeah, I know you said that you were on your own. Do you have any family that could take ya in, or someone who could help ya?” He asks looking into your eyes.

You shake your head. “I haven’t had anyone to help me in a long, long time. All of my things are back at my camp, if they haven’t been stolen yet. Including my horse.” You reply, feeling defeated. You hate feeling weak, you’ve been on your own for so long, and now you have to start over.

“Maybe, we can go to your camp and get your things but we ain’t going anywhere until this storm lets up. You can borrow a few things in the meantime.”

You nod and thank him. But your still concerned, not fully trusting these people. “Arthur, why are you guys up here? I mean, this weather is real nasty, and I am grateful that you came when you did but, why were you?”

He hesitates just like Mary-Beth did. You can tell that they don’t want to tell you too much, just like you are doing to them. So, you say, “Mary-Beth says you guys ran into some trouble. Now, you don’t have to tell me everything, I have some guesses, but just know that I am no saint. And I am no snitch, hell I don’t have anyone to snitch to.” You try to reassure him, knowing that it’s better that they trust you.

“Well,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck again, “Mary-Beth told you the truth, we are in some trouble. I ain’t gonna say much more than that until we speak with Dutch, he’s running the show ‘round here.”

“Okay.” You reply. You become a little nervous, what have you gotten yourself into? You’re stuck in a group of outlaws in the middle of a blizzard, waiting to speak with the leader so he can decide your fate. You start worrying that maybe they’ll decide to kill you, you don’t know anything about this Dutch person. They’ve cared for you so far, but you can tell they aren’t exactly happy about it. You’ve overheard the old woman, or Miss Grimshaw, grumble about being low on supplies. What if they decide they don’t want to waste any more supplies on you? You figure the sooner you speak with Dutch, the better.

“When can I speak with him?” You ask.

“Well he’s in his cabin right now. Have ya tried walking yet?” Arthur questions, looking down to your ankle.

You shake your head. You’ve barely sit up since you’ve woken up, and your ankle is not looking much better. Some of the swelling has gone down, but it’s still fat and bruised. You’ve tried your best not moving it, still unsure if it’s broken or not.

“Alright, do you want to try?” Arthur asks.

“Yeah I can try.” You slowly swing your legs over to the edge of the bed. Immediately your body rejects this movement, causing sharp aches through your muscles. You groan through the pain. Bringing your feet down to the floor sends a wave of needles through your ankle, causing you to hiss.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to right now.” Arthur says with a look of concern on his face.

“I’m fine. Just haven’t moved in a long time. Just need a minute to get used to it.” You say as you stretch your arms above your head, sighing at the satisfying cracks of your shoulders and upper back. After getting used to sitting upright, you nod to Arthur and lends his hands for you to use for balance. You keep all of your weight on your right foot, just letting your left rest on the ground. Needles prickle you all through the bottoms of your feet, but your standing. You get a slight head rush and a wave of pain, but it isn’t as nearly as bad as it was before. You smile with a sigh, relieved to finally be able to do something other than sleeping.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asks, still holding on to you. He still looks concerned, like he thinks your going to fall over at any second.

“I’m still hurting, but at least I’m not stuck laying horizontal anymore.” You grin up at him. He smiles back, damn he looks good when he smiles. The two of you stare at each other for a moment. You study his face, he has some scars as well, the biggest one being on his chin, hiding beneath his stubble. You also notice he smells like tobacco and pine, a smell that is definitely not unpleasant. You both stand there, holding on and staring in to each other’s eyes, until he finally breaks the moment.

He clears his throat, “Um, do you think you can walk?” He says while looking down at your ankle.

“Um, I don’t know. Guess I’ll have to try to find out.” You reply, still a little stunned from the moment they just shared.

He nods, “Just be careful, little at a time.”

You slowly put more weight on to your left foot. It hurts, shooting achy pain up your leg, but it isn’t the end of the world. You are standing with your weight evenly dispersed now, and nod to Arthur. He adjusts his grip so that his arm is wrapped around your shoulders.

“Just use me as a crutch now.”

You slowly take a step forward with your left leg, planting it, and shifting more of your weight on to it to take your next step. You go to put all of your weight on to it and can’t hold in your yelp as your ankle screams in pain. Arthur wraps his arm tighter around you as lean more on to him. You quickly bring your feet together, letting go of the breath you had been holding.

You sigh, “Well shit.”

Arthur chuckles, “Hey, it could be worse. You didn’t completely crumple. It looks like it’s just a bad sprain.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You say as you sigh again.

Arthur helps you take a couple more steps, you lean almost all your weight on to him while on your left foot. You both circle back to your cot and he helps you sit down.

“Thank you, Arthur.” He looks like he’s about to deny it, or say it wasn’t a big deal. So, you say, “No really I mean it. You saved my life out there. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. Thank you for that and thank you for being my crutch.” You smile up at him.

He smiles back, making his blue eyes sparkle. “Your welcome, Miss Rose. Let me know if you need anything, I’ll be your crutch whenever you’d like.” He tips his hat and walks away, going over to where the man with the bandages is. The man says something, and Arthur just smiles and says, “Shut up, you idiot.”

You grin from ear to ear. You’ve spent so many nights alone; you’ve forgotten what its like to be around other people. You continue to smile as you begin to fell tired and fall asleep. You dream your first good dream you’ve had in a while.

Over the next few days, you get into a routine, your sleeping schedule is still a little off, but you can at least be awake for a couple hours straight. Your head pain has slowly faded into a slight throb and your muscles aren’t as stiff now that you can sit up. Your ankle is about the same, maybe a little less swollen but still blotched with bruises. You’ve learned that Miss Grimshaw is a real bitch, she is always cranky and yelling at someone to do something. She has tried to get you to sew, but you are completely terrible at it, you prick your fingers with the needle practically after every stitch. Your uncle never taught you that and you had housemaids that did stuff like that. Arthur has come to visit you twice; he’s helped you walk around the room and has introduced you to his “family.” As he called them.

You met Abigail and John, you learned how Arthur saved John from the mountain after being attacked by wolves, and how they have a son together named Jack. Jack is a very sweet boy and has come over to your cot almost everyday now to ask you to tell him a story. You tell him about the first time Penny bucked you off after being scared by a snake, and another time of when you found baby kittens in the barn. He made you go into detail about each kitten, so you told him how you named them all and what they looked like. You try your best to entertain Jack, you feel bad for the boy, being stuck in a cabin and his parents always seem to be bickering over something.

Arthur also introduced you to Hosea, a very kind, older man. He seems to want to spread as much wisdom as he can, he even told you a story of his deceased wife, Bessy. You think he was trying to get you to open-up about your own life, but you didn’t budge, and he didn’t push. He tells you how everyone here was lost at some point and how he, Dutch, Arthur started by bringing people in. You were shocked to hear that Arthur has been with them for twenty years. You couldn’t even imagine being with the same people for that long. Hosea seems to trust you even though you dodge most of his questions.

“So, Miss Rose, where are you from?” Hosea asks you from across the table you both are seated at.

“Well, I’m originally from Minnesota, but I’ve moved around a lot these past couple years.” You answer. “Where are you from?” You question in hopes that he doesn’t try and dig any deeper.

“Oh, I have travelled far and wide, I don’t think I can really say I’m from one specific spot. So, you say you’re from Minnesota. That explains your accent.” He says.  
“My accent?” You chuckle. “I don’t have an accent, do I?”

“Why, yes you do dear.” He returns your laugh, “I could tell right away, when you first spoke that you weren’t from anywhere around here.”

“Huh, well I guess I could say the same for you guys. Y’alls southern drawls.” You slow down and try your best to sound southern. That gets a laugh out of Hosea, even Miss Grimshaw smirks at your attempt. “So, anyway, when do you think I can speak to Dutch? I know he is the leader or whatever and I just want to make sure I am on good terms.” You are generally asking but also trying to avoid any more questions from Hosea.

“Well, I suppose, we could- “Hosea gets cut off by the door opening, Arthur walks in, followed by a man you haven’t seen before. He is slightly taller than Arthur, he has black hair with a matching mustache, and his clothing looks expensive. They both walk towards you and Hosea.

“Ah, looks like now’s a good time.” Hosea says to you with a small smile.

“Miss Rose, I’d like to introduce you to Dutch Van Der Linde.” Arthur says to you, his eyes almost look like he’s worried. But maybe you’re just imagining it. Wait, did he just say Van Der Linde, you’ve heard that name before, you realize that you’ve seen it on a bounty poster. He is a very wanted man. That must mean all these people are also very wanted. You see know why everyone was a little hesitant to tell you anything.

“Pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Van Der Linde.” You greet him with a small smile and shake his large hand. You try your best to hide that you recognize the name, you’re not so sure you did very well by the way he is looking at you.

“Ah, pleasure’s all mine, Miss Rose. And please call me Dutch, Mr. Van Der Linde makes me sound old.” He smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It looks like his analyzing your reaction, gaging whether your trustworthy or not.

“Okay, Dutch.” You reply. Your voice slightly smaller as your nerves are getting to you.

“Why don’t we take this to somewhere a little more private.” Dutch says, while gesturing to the small room Miss Grimshaw has been staying in. You think he would’ve preferred to meet in his cabin but with your ankle he is making an exception. This only adds to your nerves. You make a small nod and swallow thickly as he turns to walk into the room. You start to stand from the chair and Arthur is quick to help you.

“Here, let me help you.” He says as he guides his arm around your shoulders. You lean on him less than you did the first time, but it is still not much better. That achy pain shoots from your ankle, to your toes and all the way up your calf. Arthur helps you into the room and let’s you sit on Miss Grimshaw’s cot. Dutch takes a seat across from you in a small, creaky chair, and Arthur stands by the door. You really hope he stays he has become a friend in this place and your still not sure how you feel about Dutch.

“So, Miss Rose.” You don’t miss how he pronounces your name just like Arthur did the first time, they know your lying. “We need to talk about what your plan. Arthur has filled me in somewhat, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Well, um… I guess I still don’t really have a plan. All of my belongings, including my horse, are back at my camp just west of Valentine. I’ve been on my own for a long while, so as soon as I get my things back, I can be out of your hair.” You try your best to keep your voice steady, but you’re not sure you succeeded.

“I see, we have to wait this storm out before we think about getting you back to your camp. But, I am curious as to why such a fine young lady like you has been on your own for so long. Miss Rose” Again with my name, I don’t like the tone Dutch is taking with me.

“Well, I, I ran away from home about three, almost four years ago. My father was a mean, drunken bastard and I had to get away. I took a train out of Minneapolis and I’ve been on my own ever since. Oh, and Rose is my middle name. My full name is Samantha Rose Scott. I prefer Samantha Rose, the less connection I have with my father, the better. I apologize for not saying that sooner.” Dutch seems to perk up when I tell him my real name, he seems a little more at ease, hopefully I’ve gained his trust more by telling him that. I hope that Dutch doesn’t push me any further, I couldn’t handle telling him anymore.

“Hmm, well Miss Samantha Rose. I hope you understand that I need trust in this group, without trust everything would fall apart. I need to feel I trust you, we’ve helped you, I need you to help us now. You are another mouth to feed and until we get off of this mountain, you’re stuck with us. I know that you are healing, so I’m not expecting the world, but just know that I expect you to do your part for the gang.” The gang, you are in with the Van Der Linde gang, how the hell did this happen.

“Dutch, I am no seamstress or clothes washer, I know that my injuries are preventing me from doing much, but just know that I can hunt, and I can shoot. I will do everything I am able to help right now, including sewing even though I am shit at it. I owe you my life. I’d be dead, frozen in the snow out there right now if you guys hadn’t found me. I will be forever grateful for that. I just want you to know that I can pull my weight, outside of chores.” You hope that this comes across the right way. You don’t want to be stuck doing housework the whole damn time. Your whole ankle situation really blows, its hard to show someone you can do the dirty work when you can barely walk.

“I will keep that in mind, Miss Rose. In the meantime, I need you to heal and help wherever you can.” You nod. Dutch still seems to be analyzing you. You don’t like the way he is looking at you, you look over to Arthur who has his lips slightly pursed, like he wants to say something.

“Miss Rose, you said that you survived on your own for nearly four years, you said you can hunt, but surely you had to make money some other way.” Arthur looks at you and asks this, almost looking uncomfortable.

“I didn’t whore myself out, if that’s what you were implying.” You state matter-of-factly. Arthur goes to what you assume to apologize but you cut him off. “I am a great tracker, I’ve killed some big game, and made some good money from my pelts. But, yes, I couldn’t survive on just hunting. I had to learn how to make money another way, and,” you hesitate a moment, “that was through pickpocketing, robbing folk, and hunting bounties.” You’re not exactly thrilled that you had to share this information but if it means they trust you more you guess it’s alright. Dutch’s eyes almost light up when you say this, it almost looks as if he’s impressed. This gives you some hope. He falters a little when you mention bounties though.

So you try to reassure him by saying, “And I’m not going to lie to you Dutch, I’ve seen your poster before, I didn’t connect it until I heard your full name just now, but just know that I have zero intentions of turning you in. You saved my life, I am in debt to you, and if it makes you feel better there’s a poster with my name on it as well.” Again, you don’t like sharing this information, but you need to gain trust.

Dutch nods to you saying this. “Well, Miss Rose. That does make me feel better about this situation. I think you will fit in mighty fine with this group. Once you heal up, we shall put your words to the test. Until then, do what’s asked of you.” He smiles, pats his hands down on the top of his knees, and stands to leave.

“Thank you, Dutch.” You reply with a smile, your anxiety ebbing away. They leave the room, except for Arthur, who comes to your side and helps you stand.  
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I was honestly just curious.” Arthur says with his jaw clenched.

“No, it’s alright Arthur. I’m sorry if I snapped. I know I haven’t been exactly open about my life, so you are right to be curious.” You reply as he helps you out of the room. He just nods to your apology, about to say something when Miss Grimshaw appears just outside the doorway.

“Finally!” Miss Grimshaw suddenly groans, shooting you and Arthur a glare. Before you have a chance to apologize, she storms into her room and shut’s the door behind her.

You look over to Arthur with your eyebrows raised in surprise and annoyance. “What the hell is her problem? She’s always got something to yell about.”

Arthur just chuckles and guides you to your cot. “Yeah, she can be real grumpy, but she keeps everything going, nothing would get done with out her. She does more for this group than you realize.”

You just nod in reply, happy to be back in your cot, feeling very tired from the whole conversation. You thank Arthur again and tell him your going to get some rest. You can still feel Arthur’s eyes on you but that doesn’t stop you from passing out.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes another couple of days, but you think you’ve met most of the gang members, you were introduced to Charles and Javier. You found you really like Charles, he was pretty quiet, but you connected a little over hunting and he’s injured too. Says he burned his hand back at their old camp, you don’t question him how. You told him how much you’ve hunted and the huge moose you were going to track before you got kidnapped. You hit it off with Javier right away, he spoke some Spanish that you recognized. One of your caretakers growing up had spoken Spanish so she taught you some basic sayings. You also briefly met Bill and Reverend Swanson. Bill you learned is not one for conversation and Swanson was too drunk to retain anything you said to him. You also told more stories to Jack. You tried your best to distract him while John and Abigail were having a very heated argument. 

Miss Grimshaw has rendered you useless, your sewing skills are pathetic she says, so you’re stuck scrubbing at clothing with a brush and bucket. You feel bad that you can’t do more but you also know that it helps your case for getting out and hunting when your able.

It’s been a full two weeks since you got here, and people are starting to go crazy. More and more arguments are breaking out, mostly over food. You’ve been trying to convince anyone you can that you can hunt, but they all say that you need to let your ankle heal. 

You wake up one day, after hearing Miss Grimshaw yell at Pearson over the food situation, and you decide that you are going are going out hunting that day. Your ankle has been slowly getting better, Arthur was kind enough to find you a good walking stick, you’ve been practicing with it for the past three days now and are able to get around on your own. You were sure to joke with Arthur how much you’d miss your crutch, which he laughed at, showing off his beautiful smile. 

You wake up early, sliding on your boots, and jacket that Karen let you borrow. You walked as silently as you could across the cabin to the door. Seven people share this cabin, you carefully weave around Mary-Beth and Tilly on their bedrolls. You don’t really have a plan. You just know that you need to get out and do something for the group. You get to the door, knowing the chances of the people waking up from the cold breeze, but you decide you have to go for it. You crack the door open as quickly as you can, shimmying through and closing it as quietly as you can. You release the breath you had been holding with great relief. It is still very dark out, the snow just barely illuminating the eastern sky. Thick, fluffy snowflakes fall gingerly to the ground. The storm seems to be finally letting up. You soon are chilled, but it’s a feeling you are quite used to being from Minnesota. Now that you are outside you really don’t know what to do, that is until you see Arthur leaving his cabin. He doesn’t see you yet, striking a match on his boot and lighting up his cigarette.

“Arthur!” You yell but in a whispered tone, still scared someone is going to wake up. You wave at him, and he works his way over through the snow. You work your way down the steps, planning on meeting him halfway, but you look up and he is standing right in front of you.

“What are you doing out here, Miss Rose?” He questions. He is still wearing his blue jacket and his signature hat. He almost looks annoyed at you, but you ignore that for now.

“I want to hunt, we need food. These people are getting hangry Arthur.”

“Hangry?” Arthurs asks, looking confused.

“They are hungry and angry, hangry. We need to do something, I can find food, I just need a horse and a bow.”

Arthur looks at you skeptically, “You’re right, we need food, but with your ankle-“

You cut him off, “Oh, shush up about my ankle. I can walk just fine now, thank you again for the stick. But, I need to do this, to do something. Miss Grimshaw is not happy with me. She’s gonna go talking to Dutch about how useless I am, which she isn’t wrong, I can’t sew for shit, and I apparently I’m bad at scrubbing clothes, if that’s even possible. I need to do this, Arthur.” You look at him, he seems to be considering it, your about to plead your case some more, but he speaks up.

“Okay, we can go hunting. But you ain’t gonna do anything that hurts that ankle of yours, ya hear?” Arthur replies cautiously, with a serious look on his face.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes! Arthur, thank you!” You can’t help yourself, you run up to him, or rather hobble quickly, and wrap him into a big hug. He tenses up at first, but soon hugs you back, patting your shoulder. You pull away so that you are just inches from his face, staring into his light eyes. It becomes another moment of you two just staring at each other. Your heart pounds in your chest, you’re sure he can hear it. He pulls away clearing his throat. 

“Alright, we should head out now, before the sun comes up.” He says looking east. You just nod, still with a stupid grin on your face. Why does this man make you feel this way? You haven’t felt this way since you met Henry. There is no way in hell that you are going to fall for this man, you will not let yourself do that. You love Henry, he was the one you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with. Arthur is a handsome man, you just have a little crush, that’s all. You try to convince yourself. 

He leads you over to the barn with the horses, he points out a horse he calls Old Boy for you to borrow. “Hosea won’t mind, I bet he will appreciate Old boy getting some exercise.” He walks over to the horse and almost purrs, “Isn’t that right boy. You’re a good boy, ain’t ya.” He says this while patting Old Boy, and hands him a sugar cube out from his satchel. You shocked at the way he speaks to the horse. His tone is so much softer and sweeter than you’ve heard him talk before. This man is something, you think to yourself.

You walk up to the horse, slowly, not wanting to spook him as your uncle taught you. You let him sniff your palm, which he snorts right into. You giggle and slowly bring your hand up to pat him, he doesn’t seem to mind you. “That’s right, sweet boy.” You slowly make your way to his side, making sure he’s comfortable. He doesn’t protest when you tap the saddle, so you figure it’s safe. You hadn’t thought about getting up onto the horse, and Arthur notices.

“Here, let me help ya.” He guides his hands to your waist and lifts you up with ease onto the saddle. You pat Old Boy some more and Arthur hands you another treat to give to him. You wipe your hands on your skirt, wishing you were back in your jeans. You detest skirts and dresses, you were only wearing one when you were taken because you hadn’t done laundry in a while. 

Arthur walks over to the horse next to yours and talks to his horse the same way he did to Old Boy. You think it’s cute that such a rugged man is so sweet with his horses. He leads you out of the barn, you adjust yourself on the saddle, uncomfortable in your skirt, and set of into a canter. You think of Penny, damn do you miss her. You are really hoping that she’s alright, you stop yourself from thinking about if she isn’t. Henry helped you care for her and she has helped you get through losing him, she’s one of the last reminders of Henry you have. If you lost her, you don’t think you could survive. You hate crying and thinking of her is only gonna make you cry. 

“Are you alright? It is hurting you or anything?” Arthur says, he must’ve noticed your face.

You decide to be honest with him, “I’m fine, I’m just missing my horse, Penny, is all.”

“Yeah, we’ll get her back soon, I promise, alright.” Arthur says trying to ease your worried expression. 

“I hope so. She’s my best friend.” You reply. Arthur nods and kicks his horse into a trot, leading us north east towards the valley. You follow right behind, smiling as it feels good to be out of that damned cabin. The air is cold but no where near as cold when Arthur had first found you. Plus, you were used to the cold and the snow, being from Minnesota and all. 

You travel for about ten minutes, not exactly following a path, the snowfall has covered it if it is one. Arthur slows down as he sees the river ahead, “Alright, this looks like a good spot.” 

He completely stops and points to a pair of freshly laid deer tracks and jumps off his saddle. You look down at him, you hadn’t really thought this all the way through. I guess you’ll just have to hobble as quietly as you can. He walks over to your side and he holds out his hands. You lean so that your hands are on his shoulders and his hands wrap around your waist, he lifts and slowly slides you off the horse. You thank him with a small smile, you are very aware of his hands on your waist, your heart beating very fast again. He hands you your walking stick from your saddle and then hands you his bow and arrows of his saddle. You smile even wider when you get the bow in your hands, excited to be back doing the things you love. 

“Alright, let’s see what you can do.” He says as he starts following the tracks. You walk as silently as you can, taking slow steps. The snow makes it difficult. Your ankle still protests every time you put weight on it, but the snow seems to help with your balance. You both follow the trail for about five more minutes in a comfortable silence. Arthur lets you lead, probably more because you’re really slow, but you don’t mind. You come up to the river where the tracks seem to go into. You aren’t dressed to walk through the water, man do you wish your pants. But you go through with it anyway, taking as big of steps as you can manage, the ice-cold water rushes into your boots. You’re going to regret that later for sure. 

You walk up behind a boulder and that’s when you see them, two doe are about twenty yards away, not too far from the river. You silently knock an arrow and get ready to creep closer, through some trees for some coverage. Arthur starts to follow you, hand on hovering over his gun, you shake your head at him. A gunshot would scare every animal off. 

“I got this.” You mouth to him, staying as quiet as you can. You creep closer to the deer until you are in shooting range. You decide that you can get both, but your going to have to be fast. You slowly take aim at the deer furthest from you, its head is sniffing the ground, so you whistle to get its attention. You release your arrow into its neck. You quickly knock your next arrow, aiming at the deer running away from you, it’s a further target, but you manage. The arrow pierces the back of its head, it goes down in an instant.

“God damn.” Arthur looks over to you, his face looks shocked but also impressed. You grin from ear to ear. 

“Come on, let’s bring camp their breakfast.” Motioning to the two deer. Arthur looks at you with a small smile, still looking impressed. He doesn’t say anything more, just whistles for the horses. You walk over to inspect your kills, silently thanking them for their sacrifice. Both horses come trotting over to you through the trees. Arthur lifts the first deer you shot, throwing it onto his shoulder, then draping it over Old Boy’s back. You admire his movements, just imaging the pure muscle working under his thick jacket. You think he catches you staring, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

“You know I would help you if I could.” You say, feeling bad that he has to get bloody and go through the effort of lifting the deer.

“Nah, you did the hard part. Which was mighty impressive I must say. Who taught you how to do that?” Arthur asks while strapping the deer on to the back of his horse.

“Uh, well I’ve had a lot of practice over the years, but it was my uncle who originally taught me how to hunt.” You reply honestly, taking down multiple targets had taken a lot of practice, something that you taught yourself in order to survive. You tried your best, selling pelts so that you wouldn’t have to rob so much. Arthur nods to your response, seeming to accept it. 

“He didn’t exactly teach me how to do that,” You say motioning to the two deer, “that was something I taught myself in order to get as much money from pelts as possible. My uncle taught me all of the basics, but the rest I had to learn on my own.”

“Well, I see now what you meant by you can hunt. Dutch’ll be very happy to have someone besides me or Charles bringing in meat.” He says as he goes to lift you back on to Old Boy again. 

You smile and say, “Yeah, now you see what I mean when I say I’m not meant to sew or do chores inside all damn day. Being out here is so amazing. Thank you again for helping me.” Taking off into a trot back towards camp.

“Oh, this was nothing.” He says, shrugging off his help yet again.

“No, Arthur. This was not nothing. You haven’t stopped helping me since you found me, Thank you.”

“Heh,” he goes to scratch the back of his neck again, “I am not a kind man, Miss Rose. I have done some very bad things-“

“Arthur, just accept it. You haven’t stopped helping people since I’ve met you, you are a selfless man, which makes you kind. Sure, you’ve done bad things, everyone has. But I can tell your good outweighs your bad. And you can call me Sam, Miss Rose makes me sound old.”

Arthur draws his lips into a fine line, clenching his jaw a little. He is still so reluctant to admit that he is kind. “Okay, Sam.” He finally says after a few moments with a tinge of a smile on his lips. He doesn’t look like he wants to talk anymore so we ride back to the small group of cabins, that you’ve come to learn is called Colter. The silence is slightly more awkward than it was on the way in. But you still enjoy the ride, taking in the beautiful view of the sunrise coming over the mountains around you and the dusting of sparkling snow falling. You can’t feel your toes anymore, but you think that it was worth it. You arrive to Colter and Arthur leads you to the shed where Pearson resides.

“Well, look what we have here.” Pearson smiles, eyeing the deer on the back of your horses.

You just smile at him, happy with your kills. Arthur hops off his horse and says, “Miss Rose here, took both these down herself, took one down and shot the other while it was running away. It was mighty impressive.” You look at him when he says Miss Rose, but don’t mind it too much because he is talking to Pearson.

“Well then, we should keep you around. I sent Bill and Javier out, they were gone for hours and didn’t bring in a single thing. I’m happy we have someone like you to help out now, especially with Charles being out with his hand.” Pearson says to you with a big smile. He offers a bottle to you after taking a sip himself, you decline politely. You drowned yourself in the bottle after Henry and the baby, about three years ago you decided to stop all together. You started drinking to numb the pain but after a while all it did was make it worse and reminded you too much of your father. 

Arthur takes a sip and hisses, “Jesus, what the hell is that?”

“Navy rum, sir. It’s the only thing, the one thing. Keeps you sane it does.” Pearson replies with a chuckle.

“Yes, seems to have done a treat on you.” Arthur replies and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“People are going a little crazy around here, it’ll be good to get some protein in ‘em. I’m happy to help skin ‘em if you’d like.” You say as Arthur walks over to help you down. His hands grab a hold of your waist once again, making your heartbeat quicken. You offer, not really wanting to go back into the cabin just yet. Arthur grabs the one off of Old Boy and sets it on to the table, he sets the other one down on the ground.

“That’d be great, you take the one on the table there, and I’ll get this one.” Pearson hands you a knife and you are about to start when Arthur speaks.  
“Are you sure Miss Rose, uh, Sam, I can do that for you.” He asks.

“Nah, you’ve done enough.” You say with a smile when he calls you Sam, ‘Sides, I’m not ready to face Miss Grimshaw yet. I’d much rather get bloody from skinning than from that damn sewing needle.” You reply with a smile. 

He returns it, “Well alright, don’t stay out here too long now. Don’t want our new hunter getting sick from this cold.” You thank him and reassure him that you’ll go inside as soon as you can. He tips his hat to you and saunters off to his cabin. 

You skin the deer with precision, quick and clean from all your years of practice. Pearson admires your work and tells you stories from when he was in the navy. You smile and nod along to his story, enjoying getting to know him more. When your done, you thank him and hobble back towards your cabin. It’s hard and your limping a lot more because you can’t feel your toes. Your excited to warm up but groan as soon as you walk into the door. Miss Grimshaw starts yelling in your ear, mad that you took off and is about to put you to work, when she notices how cold you are. You tell her you went hunting and got some deer, she puffs but is way less angry and tells you to go warm up by the fire. 

You hobble over, wincing as the heat painfully makes your skin prickle. You sit down on the ground and pull off you boots and socks. You gasp a little when you see your toes, they are tinged blue. You didn’t realize they were that cold. Abigail comes over and wraps a blanket around your shoulders, you hide your feet under your skirt, not wanting her to see. You sit in front of the fire for what seems like hours, the pain of heating up slowly fading away. You settle and talk with Jack, telling him how you shot the deer. 

After a little while longer, Mary-Beth comes over to you with two bowls in hand. You thank her and start chowing down, you haven’t really eaten much in the past couple days. She thanks you for getting the deer, which causes everyone in the cabin to come over to you and thank you as well. You joke and tell them that you didn’t do it for them, you were just practicing your aim. You are starting to feel apart of this group, it’s still strange being around so many people, but you’re getting used to it. Mary-Beth offers to take care of your dishes and you thank her. You take a peek at your toes once she’s gone, you sigh in relief that they are no longer blue. 

You struggle to sit up, your muscles are still recovering, riding a horse and walking as much as you have has really taken it out of you. You hobble over, looking quite ugly you guess. You rely very heavily on your stick; your ankle is screaming at you to stop and the muscles in your legs are refusing to move the way you want them to. But eventually you make it to your cot and pass out as you soon as you hit the blanket.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I have been obsessed with reading Arthur fanfics and I decided to try writing one myself. I am new to this whole writing thing so any feedback is welcome! I was writing fast and I didn't double check it so I apologize if there are errors, I was just too excited to post it. Thank you again if you are reading this!


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